


Here Lies

by wrlfgang



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Death, F/M, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-23
Updated: 2016-04-23
Packaged: 2018-06-03 22:06:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 694
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6628501
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wrlfgang/pseuds/wrlfgang
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              
<p></p><div class="center">
  <p>
    <i>The funeral was a dismal affair. Of course, it was precisely what one might expect from the funeral of a wealthy man. The attending crowd ran a bit thin but the man’s parents considered it a reasonable turnout. They had not expected much.</i>
  </p>
</div>
            </blockquote>





	Here Lies

The funeral was a dismal affair. Of course, it was precisely what one might expect from the funeral of a wealthy man. The attending crowd ran a bit thin but the man’s parents considered it a reasonable turnout. They had not expected much. One of his newer employee’s was in attendance, likely because the young man had not gotten to know his boss quite yet. The majority of the wealthy man’s employees tended to hold him at a slight distance. It was not because he was a bad employer, as he was not, but instead it was more likely due to the fact that even after years of knowing the wealthy man, most felt they really did not know him.

He had taken over the business several years ago, seven perhaps, and since then the wealthy man’s standoffish demeanor had thickened and grown. The wealthy man often kept away from the inner thoughts of those around him, instead preferring to know people as acquaintances and nothing more. His heart shimmered gold but long ago it had been stamped upon, dented and compressed until the blood trickled through his veins like gentle streams.

The minister’s sermon was kind, no personal touches adorned it, to no one’s surprise. The wealthy man’s casket was lowered carefully into rectangle cutaway in the ground, silence echoing around them save only for the cautious rolling of his mother’s tears. A shuffle in the silence sounded when his father cleared his throat, pressing away the urge to look at his son once more.

With arms around each other, the attendees left the wealthy man alone in his sleek black casket, resting heavy in the dirt. Daylight faded and evening approached, signaling the beginning of the grittier portion of graveyard work. Men with shovels seemed to leak from the shadows, seeping towards the unfilled graves. A man in dirty overalls came to stand beside the wealthy man’s grave, heaving his shovel into the dirt and throwing it atop the casket. The man worked diligently, faint music vibrating from his headphones, until the wealthy man’s casket could no longer be seen. The worker pat the dirt with his shovel before giving an affirmative nod, approving his own work.

The workers left shortly thereafter, leaving only the purple sky to watch over the cemetery. It was then that a woman in black, hair pinned against the back of her head, moved forward from the trees. Her feet brought her to the freshly shoveled dirt across the wealthy man’s grave and she knelt without care for the dirt that would surely ingrain itself in the skirt of her dress.

Her eyes were raw, a sure sign of recent tears, but currently her cheeks were dry. Her hand settled gently upon the mound of dirt, pointer-finger drawing little circles.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled quietly despite the deserted grounds, “I should have found you. I should have done something more.” Even as she spoke, the woman was unsure of what more she could have done to prevent this. “I wasn’t aware… I didn’t know what you were doing was going to amount to this.” Her finger traced a heart into the dirt before she brushed it away with a blush settling across her cheeks. “Days will be insufferable without you. I should have told you to throw it all away. We would have lived without the riches of danger. We would have led perfectly capable lives. Love would have been enough.” Even as she spoke, she knew the words bordered on dishonesty. They had breathed risk and without it, she was unsure what they would have done to occupy themselves otherwise.

The woman pulled a crumpled rose from the pocket of her woolen coat, setting it across the wealthy man’s grave, “Ironic, I know, but I couldn’t help myself. I thought it might be amusing. Nothing seems amusing anymore.” She brushed the dirt from his tombstone, fingers trembling across the letters of his name. She stood with a shuttering breath, glancing once more at the words across the stone before forcing herself to leave.

 

_Here lies Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy._

_Beloved son._

_May 13th, 2006 - Jan. 29th, 2049_


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